The bitter taste of defeat had become all too familiar on her tongue. It made her stomach lurch, her body ache, her heart feel numb. When she thought there wasn’t much else to break, the world found something else to shatter a piece of her she didn’t know existed. The loss of her colleagues, of their confidence amongst their people, all added to the loss of her sense of purpose and self and, worst of all, hope.

The betrayal returned as a sense of nausea that curled in her stomach and forced itself up and into the toilet she was curled over. She cringed as she wiped her mouth, a sharp pain shooting up her side from the cracked ribs still healing. She was going to be late if she didn’t pull herself together.

With Blade's help, she cleaned herself up and traded her typical scrubs for something more professional. She still shrugged on the lab coat over her black dress to hide the bruises and scars.

She’s been restless for too long, and even the makeup can hide the exhaustion. She puts on a professional facade in the face of the committee, standing straight and tall as they file into the room. She quite honestly has no idea what to expect. Her perfect record was suddenly tarnished in the worst of ways. Her nervousness stirred up another bout of nausea that she swallowed down as she lowered herself into her seat. Her gaze tentatively glanced over to Fernando, a shimmer of pity against the emerald for him getting dragged into this.

None of this was his fault, and guilt was another parasite that ate at what little she had left.

---

FERNANDO SILPH

The Councilman’s knowing glance is acknowledged with small nod, “Silph,” she says softly, swallowing again to tame the ichor that stains her tongue when she utters that name. Though the wounds left by another Silph are numb due to recent events, they still fester beneath the surface of the fresh ones.

A deep thrum of calm resonates along the tether bound to her god when her heart rate spikes as the meeting begins. A shaky hand reaches forward and her delicate fingers dance over the smooth screen of the tablet in front of her to quickly review the meeting agenda while she listens. Multi-tasking has always come easily.

The Head Professor clears her throat, and sits up a bit straighter in response to the speaker’s question, “It has recently been brought to our attention that Rocket has infiltrated the department,” now that she speaks more clearly, the unnatural raspiness to her voice still lingers from the crushing pressure applied by another, “priam conrad, has been the primary research assistance since before my tenure as Head Professor,” a swipe of her finger sends his employee profile to all those present, “He is now a confirmed Rocket spy,” and another swipe sent her report of their confrontation in Ultra Deep Sea. Despite the foreign roughness to her voice, she says it with grief, the betrayal still a shock and deep disappointment.

---

FERNANDO SILPH

This is what she expected, what she knew would happen. They need someone to blame. It is a painful reminder why she didn’t get into politics or try to crawl her way up the corporate ladder. Yet, somehow, here she is: the regions Head Professor and now caught in the spotlight of a scandal with the eyes of the region bearing down on her.

The tension spreads to her shoulders, an even more rigid posture spurring the dull ache of her wounds both physically and emotionally to spike. A forced, polite smile graces her lips. She isn’t a practiced politician, so hiding behind a veil of professionalism isn’t her forte.

“Yes, we worked closely,” she confirms between the clenched teeth of her smile. The oppressive undertone of their accusations rub salt in the fresh wounds, “There was no reason to not trust him. He worked hard and was diligent in his tasks. My colleagues and I never get the impression he was betraying us,” her fingers tap the desk in a slow rhythm, “Obviously,” she shrugs her shoulders, “Or else we would have reported it,” it doesn’t matter how strongly she defends herself or her colleagues they need a scapegoat. Without sacrificing herself, she opts to steer the conversation in another direction.

“The question we should be asking is how he got here in the first place,” she takes a moment to glance between each committee member, “Where in the recruitment and hiring process did we fail? What could we do better to ensure this doesn’t happen again?”

---

FERNANDO SILPH

The tension crawling over her threatens to snap like a guitar string. She could only imagine what they were chattering about. Sure, they had every right to scrutinize such a major breach of security, but they were naive to the details and intricacies and what it is like to be in a position such as hers. Their minds were likely already made up about this scandal. The hearing was just a formality.

“Yes, we were unaware of his affiliations,” she confirms. There was no hiding that. Even if they had an inkling of suspicion, they should have reported it. Ignoring any suspicions would put them in an even worse predicament. It made her look like a fool, but considering themselves completely unaware was a tactic she could use to protect the remainder of her staff until her own internal investigation could be complete, “We can not guarantee that. Not until the investigation is through. The remainder of the staff will undergo a rigorous evaluation and additional background checks led by our security division. For now, only myself and illeana reyes will have access to our research and data,” which only gave them more work on top of everything else they were tasked with, “With the knowledge that there is a weakness, it is imperative that we revisit our recruitment and hiring process to identify where the flaws are and strengthen them to prevent this,” it’s a task she didn’t feel qualified to handle. Perhaps she’d suggest pawning it off on someone else. Seemed like a good task for PENELOPE LIVY’s department but Eva wouldn’t trust that bitch even with the simplest of tasks.

The topic leads into the following question, one that ties the knot tighter in her throat, a cold, empty fear gripping her. It’s a question that’s haunted her since the revelation of Priam’s betrayal, “We can’t be certain . . . he was a senior lab assistant and had access to the majority of our data and secure files. This excludes the strictly confidential information pertaining to the AQUA Initiative and the few sensitive topics of research but . . . they could have everything else,” she braces for the backlash, knowing this is what would fan the flames of outrage.

---

FERNANDO SILPH

There is no questioning that knowledge is power, and with The League’s detailed knowledge at their fingertips, it is possible Rocket may used that knowledge to their advantage in a way that may have aided them in securing the SEAL STONE. Eva can neither confirm nor deny the possibility, so she dips back into her experience of skirting around a solid answer which is rare in science to begin with.

“It is possible, but also likely they were more well-prepared and aggressive than The League in their pursuits. Rocket is notoriously a violent and merciless organization and that has been confirmed in war,” Eva can speak from personal experience on that subject having fought them in both Kanto and now in Hoenn, “The published data they have, for sure,,” it’s free access to the public, “And we can not forget they have their own research divisions,” that was clear in the way they had rockets built to meet them on the Meteor when it was hurling towards Hoenn.

“I think the only thing that changes is that they now know what we know. They can prepare to counter it: The primal nodes when the meteor threatened us, for example. That intel and how to intervene may have come from their spy. I believe the injuries we sustained,” she glances briefly towards Fernando’s sling and shifts uncomfortably in her chair from the aching bullet wound in her leg that pulses as she speaks it back to life, “Are simply a product of their cruelty. They’ll kill, torture, and sacrifice their own to get what they want.”

---

FERNANDO SILPH

They all seem to find common ground in their shared hatred for the criminal organization. Understandable, but it spits gasoline onto an already lit fire - and fire catches fast.

The flames lash out like whips looking to strike whatever they can to consume in blame. They raise decent points, but they are all shallow ones. It truly baffles her brilliant mind that they can’t (or refuse) to dive into the deeper problems their own organization faces. Instead, they still seek to point fingers. This time, at Fernando.

He is stoic, as usual. Eva envies him that aspect. He makes it look so easy. Perhaps it is easy when you have the emotional depth of a Magikarp’s Splash. That’s probably what made him such a good politician and businessman. It’s easy to be objective when emotions don't complicate things.

This was beginning to exhaust her more than she expected it to. She refrained from bringing coffee in an effort to keep herself from getting distracted but now she was sorely regretting that decision. A heavy sigh drops her shoulders as she rubs her eyes with a single hand.

The mic crackles when she pulls it back towards her, “We all take responsibility: The League as a whole,” she pauses briefly but continues before she can be interrupted, “What’s done is done. The League failed and instead of casting blame we should be discussing what resources you will be giving us to correct the organization’s shortcomings in this matter. A topic that can provide tangible change for the better,” It is an attempt to steer the conversation in the direction she desired but she was no politician and their minds were foreign to her. Mostly, she was anxious to get out of this chamber. There were far more important things that needed her attention.

---

FERNANDO SILPH

Is that a smile? From Fernando Silph? It doesn’t look genuine, but it throws her off guard to see his stoic demeanor broken, even if just for a moment.

Her surprise melts into an unexpected pool of annoyance laced with anger. Her own demeanor breaks which isn’t a surprise, fixing Fernando with a stern and unhappy emerald glare beneath furrowed brows.

This isn’t his fault. This isn’t her fault. Accepting the blame only sets them up for failure in the future. It teaches this little committee that they are allowed to point fingers and settle for their shallow need to blame someone rather than growing past their more primal urges and looking to make real change. Fernando is enabling them.

His praise softens her sharp look only because she’s always been uncomfortable with accolades cast her way. She can’t hide the heat that rises in her cheeks and the discomfort it brings that makes her posture stiffen and gaze drift down to the intricate details of the microphone in front of her. The implication that her status as Head Professor may be in jeopardy elicits a subtle nausea to rise in her stomach. She never thought about what she would do if she was dismissed because of something like this. It wouldn’t be working for Silph Co, that’s for sure . . . or is it? It didn’t matter, he is simply making her look desirable in case they were debating a more severe punishment. He really is a clever man.

For once, Eva has nothing to say. She simply leans back to pull away from the mic and indicate her commitment to silence.

---

FERNANDO SILPH